*I don't own The Outsiders.

(PPOV)

I really didn't mean to make Dally look stupid, but I did.

I was running full speed down the street as he chased me. I knew I could out run him. Not necessarily because Ol' Dal couldn't keep up with me, but because he was too lazy to chase after me for as long as he knew I'd run for to avoid any retribution for my accidental bad deed.

I hadn't necessarily done something wrong...Out of the corner of my eye, I had seen that Dally was going to tackle me. Instead of bracing myself like a normal Greaser would, I ducked. Dallas flew over me and, well, he sort of face planted right in the dirt. I really didn't mean to do that. Of course the gang started laughing at him, and man he shot me a glare that could make a child pee their self!

He told me to run, so I did. I debated whether or not to take a detour down the alley next to the corner store up ahead. If I did, I could possibly waste precious moments scaling the wall. I wasn't sure if Dally was bored enough to just let me go. If he caught me, I don't think he'd hurt me too bad, but I'm not stupid enough to think he wouldn't whack me good for making him look like an idiot.

Later on, when I wasn't running to save my face, I would probably laugh about this.

I decided to risk it and go through the alley way. I jumped onto a garbage can and launched myself upwards. Before I got up, I felt a strong hand wrap around my ankle.

After that there was a flurry of limbs and cusses coming from the both of us. I usually found Dally's creative cusses pretty amusing, but they didn't seem so funny when they were directed at me.

XXX

"Did ya have to bust up my face?" I asked.

Dally glanced at me, "I could'a done worse, so quit whining already."

I scowled at him once he turned his back. (I wasn't looking for another black eye.) Sometimes I really hated Dally. It wasn't my fault he launched at me in the first place. Also, I do not whine, I don't know why the gangs saying I do, but I don't. I complain—that's real different from whining.

Soda glanced my way and smiled, seeming to be more amused than angry now. "Do you want to come to the movies tonight, Pone, you haven't gone in awhile?"

I saw Steve roll his eyes. Steve was annoying the hell out of me today. I knew if I said yes to Soda, that he'd be pissed. Was it worth spending more time around Steve just to irk him? Yes, because with Soda there Steve won't actually say anything, he'll sit there and glare at me.

"Yeah, I'll go."

Steve scowled at me. I smirked back, resisting the urge to wiggle my fingers at him—my face hurt enough as it is.

XXX

I sat at my desk after I came home with Soda. Darry was chewing him out for bringing me home late. It still felt strange to hear Darry yell at one of us. I didn't like it when Darry went parental on us. It felt kind of wrong, but I was getting used to it.

I wondered if he'd ever realize he didn't have to yell to get his point across. I'm pretty sure our neighbors now know that Soda is to obey his curfew—a curfew, according to Darry, Soda is lucky to have at midnight and not nine.

I wish the gang had been here to hear the way Soda started squawking when Darry mentioned an earlier curfew.

I leaned back in the chair of my desk that was now in Soda's room. The only way the nightmares seemed to stay away, or at least not occur as frequently, was if I stayed with Soda. Under the protective arm of my brother, I didn't feel like anything was going to get me.

I never really remembered the one nightmare, the one that made me scream like a banshee. I did, however, remember some of the others. They were upsetting, but didn't make me yell out and wake my brothers up.

I looked down at the blank white page of my sketch book. I hadn't drawn anything since before the accident. It was kind of like writer's block, only for drawing. I didn't know what to draw, I just couldn't think of anything. I never really had this problem before. There's so much that I could draw, but it just doesn't work. Everything looks like crap, so I've just let the hobby fall to the side, like a lot of other things.

"Turn out the light, Pony," Soda sighed, flopping down onto the bed.

I did and got into bed; maybe tomorrow I'd try to draw that blue jay I saw in the backyard today.

"I told you that you didn't have time to 'say goodnight' to Sandy," I mumbled.

"Shut up, Ponyboy," Soda groaned. "And, how do you know if we kissed or not?"

I rolled my eyes. "You're a horndog, Soda," I responded dryly.

"I am not!" Soda laughed, knowing I was just joking.

I grinned, "You can see through the back windows in Steve's truck, Soda. And just so you know, people may start to get the wrong idea about Sandy if they saw where she was letting you put your hands."

Seeing my brother make out was not something I had needed to see. I had gone to get some popcorn after Steve went to sit by Evie, and I came back and Soda and Sandy were going at it in the back seat—it was disgusting. I ended up finding my own seat, and just found Steve and Soda after the movie ended.

Apparently, they all hadn't purposely met up. I had a feeling Steve may have clued Evie in that he and Soda were going to the movies though.

Soda's cheeks had turned red after I told him what I saw him and Sandy doing; he stuttered before just falling quiet. I started laughing; it wasn't often that Soda didn't know what to say.

"Don't worry, I won't tell Darry," I chuckled and turned over.

A couple seconds later I heard, "You better not."

You know what? Things were starting to feel right again.

The End.

I thought I'd end on a brotherly note, heading more towards the way it feels in the book between Ponyboy and the gang. Thanks for all the support, guys, I really appreciate it. Thanks to all of those who reviewed!